


The Noble Pursuit of Retribution

by Witchtomez



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: After Marianne's Paralogue, F/M, Investigations, Other, Set Post-Timeskip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22663561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchtomez/pseuds/Witchtomez
Summary: Seeing Marianne von Edmund smiling freely at last, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester considered the previous mission into the foggy demonic den a mere pittance with an exponentially worthy payoff (though terrifying as it had been).Then he learned the circumstances that had led up to the dangerous excursion...and as the pieces of Marianne's mystery began to surface, Lorenz came to some seething conclusions:1.) There were more monsters to defeat2.)  While these monsters only bore the armor of deception and human skin, Lorenz fully intended to lead a gambit of reasonable(i.e. gargantuan)proportions for the sake of justice.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	The Noble Pursuit of Retribution

_The scent of pine needles and musk hung heavily in the air as the fog enveloped everything; insidiously creeping beneath armor and seeping into their lungs, as if to consume every living thing to enter the hellish forest._

_Swallowing thickly, Lorenz held his composure as he desperately tried to focus his hearing for a hint of her voice—anything besides the sound of disturbed shrubbery as large, unseen creatures slithered and crashed through in pursuit. The party was doing their best to lead their respective battalions swiftly between the trees, treading lightly._

_Then the howling began; stark, haunting and dreadful. Clenching his spear as tightly as his jaw, the heir of Gloucester urged his horse forward as desperation tinted his thoughts._

_‘Goddess above, I beseech you; protect Marianne until we find her! Surely her lifelong devotion has warranted that much—‘_

_The faint whiz of an arrow crossed his vision and his left hand instinctively rose to summon a saggitae spell. Hilda and Cyril set their troops upon the snarling demonic wolf, felling the beast once there was an opening to sink their axes into its flesh._

_There was no time for relief; two more entered the fray, undoubtedly drawn by the stench of blood. Cued by Lysithea’s crackling aura as she whispered an incantation behind him, Lorenz channeled the familiar ice magic into his lance and readied himself to charge forward—_

_“You…Do you bear our Crest? For what purpose did you come here?”_

_Lorenz gasped involuntarily; the gravelly voice spoke plainly from within the mist ahead, yet the immense presence drowned the cacophony of battle around him. Whatever lay within the depths of the forest was something profoundly ancient and powerful._

_“Our Crest? Does that mean…?”_

_Though the years had given her a bit more steel, Lorenz would know the soft, elegant voice anywhere. Surging forward, he struck branch and beast aside until he found Marianne in the clearing, delicate hand clenched over her heart as she stared up at the creature. A veritable mountain of scales, he raked his eyes carefully over the demon’s form in search of vulnerabilities…seeing none, Lorenz surmised that the eyes would be the best target._

_He wasn’t expecting the narrowed black slits to convey emotion—but there was no other way to explain the gaze of pity and despair as Marianne met it with her concern._

_Yet far more alarming was a glimmer of agonizing hunger; the soil crumbled beneath the entity’s claws, falling away as it advanced slowly. The very air seemed to rumble as it spoke once more._

_“It appears that your presence has been detected by bloodthirsty demonic beasts…”_

_And then the creature’s gaze fell to him, freezing his breath within his lungs. Unlike with Marianne, there was no pity to be found._

_Just despair and hunger._

_…_

“RRRAAAGGGGHH! HURRRAAAAGGHH!!!”

Spilling from his silken sheets, Lorenz caught himself before landing on the floor of his bedroom. Glaring at the hallway windows beyond his door, he heaved a sigh and raked his fingers through his hair.

‘Of _course_ Raphael is training at the crack of dawn—wait, what in the world…?’

A smaller, feminine roaring echoed his boisterous former classmate, followed by giggling.

Once the rose embroidered handkerchief was properly folded into his pocket, Lorenz stepped into the hallway and peered over the window ledge to see Flayn closing a canteen before mimicking Raphael’s stance once more. Frown gradually fading at the comical, somewhat endearing sight, the young noble decided the abrupt awakening was preferable to the horrendous memory that fostered his latest nightmare.

Though that terrifying ordeal was weeks into the past at this point, it had been an uncomfortably close call. The circumstances surrounding the mission had been baffling as well; he never would have expected for gentle Marianne to spearhead the task given her distaste for violence, much less lead such a dangerous mission.

In retrospect, it was probably why the normally shrewd Gloucester scion did not question the details initially. In a case where she felt courageous enough to assert the need for assistance, how could he do anything but comply?

Just as he began to descend the dark stairway, Lorenz halted as the sound of soft but spritely footsteps approached.

“Oh, Lorenz! Good morning! I was just coming up to see you…”

He wasn’t quite sure how his heart managed to force so much heat to his face when it felt as though it had skipped a few beats, but he regained his composure with a winning smile.

“It certainly is a good morning now. That’s quite the bouquet you’re cradling,’ Lorenz paused, keeping his smile steady while a less pleasant thought crossed his mind, ‘…I hope the fool who presented you with these had the foresight to remove the thorns lest they prick your fair skin. Shall I assist?”

Marianne chuckled quietly, shaking her head, “You really are quite funny, Lorenz! I thought you might enjoy these. It seems Caspar had to settle a quarrel outside the dining hall last night and some of the rose bushes became collateral damage…”

Careful to hide his sigh of relief, Lorenz artfully relieved her of the blooms, allowing his fingers to linger in brushing stray leaves from her soft palms.

“How very like you to turn a tragedy into a considerate gift, Marianne—I shall appreciate them until I can return the favor once these are ready to become an exquisite tea.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely! I’ll look forward to it.”

Taking in her pure, bright smile, Lorenz felt his heart could burst from overflowing affection. She had always been a striking beauty, but since that night, Marianne’s happiness lit her entire face and radiated from her very being like a blessing from the Goddess.

‘It could have been a hundred beasts and it would still have been worth it,’ he internally decided, discreetly bowing in gratitude.

After placing the stems in a few vases, they chatted on the way down to the campus grounds as they had done on occasion in the past—but this time, Marianne led most of the conversation while Lorenz became enchanted with her mirthful description of how Hilda negotiated with Cyril to gather the bounty of fallen petals and prune the remaining shrubs. In exchange, Cyril had agreed on the condition that two-thirds of the harvest would become distilled rose water to be split between the infirmary and the kitchen.

“It seems I have underestimated Cyril greatly; any man that can stand his ground against Hilda’s charm is a rare talent, indeed.” He brought a hand to his chin in playful contemplation, winking when Marianne shyly hid a laugh behind her own. Promising to meet later for lunch, the two parted at the reception hall for daily chores.

His earlier discomfort all but forgotten, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester had to temper the urge to allow a skip in his step…

…until he overheard a series of curious conversations…

…starting with the gatekeeper.

“All right, everyone! We have direct orders from Captain Alois to find out who was on shift when that man entered the monastery three weeks ago—“

Hurried footsteps approached, “I’ve got the shift logs and the visitors sign-in forms here!”

Papers were shuffled as another knight voiced their thoughts.

“If the knave claimed to be a crest scholar, is it possible that Professor Hanneman would know of them..?”

Lorenz watched as the Gatekeeper’s shadow folded the papers and shook his head.

“Professor Byleth already confirmed with Hanneman that he did not receive any visitors that day, so it may have been a ruse to gain access to Lady Edmund…”

Unlike that night in the forest, the cold swept through his spine like a dousing of frigid water. Lorenz shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the guards’ conversation before his mind spiraled into a flurry of questions.

“…—can’t be much of a scholar if he thought he could drag off our battalion leaders without a fight—!”

“Forget that, the creep never should have been able to approach her! It’s embarrassing that he was only stopped because the Princess of Brigid tailed him after he had been lurking near Lady Marianne all day!”

Lorenz was inclined to agree with the incensed warlock from the magic corps, whose telltale sleeves flapped in agitation before another mage chimed in.

“About that—I thought it was Professor Byleth who intervened, wasn’t it?”

“That would be because Ignatz fetched her after splitting off from Lady Petra,’ interjected the Gatekeeper, ‘in any case, there is no excuse for lax security; most of us have been guarding these walls since the commanders were students in the officers’ academy. We owe it to them to keep everyone safe here while they devise our next steps—take these logs to Lady Shamir. Lady Catherine has ordered an interrogation of all guards on duty that day, so let’s…”

…

Retreating further into the Reception Hall, Lorenz leaned against a stone pillar in a vain attempt to compose himself; his exhaled breaths came in moderately contained shudders while his fingers scraped against the bricks.

Was it possible that someone had attempted to abduct Marianne? If so, then for what purpose?

‘More importantly—how _dare_ they?’

Surprising himself as something of a growl emerged from his throat, Lorenz took a moment to clear his throat and resumed with a meditation exercise. Surely it wasn’t the bullheaded effort of some idiot noble attempting to force a marriage proposal—not while in the midst of war!

Before he could think up a list of would-be nobles foolish enough to try, a startling memory halted his thought process:

_“I've been keeping this from you for a while. It's... It's about my Crest...”_

_Sitting across from her, Lorenz watched her smile wilt as Marianne’s frame began to quiver with subdued hyperventilation. She had been settling in comfortably not even a moment ago…his heart sank at her sudden discomfort._

_“It's just terrible! I—!”_

_“Please, that’s quite enough!” He hadn’t meant to shout, noticing her slight jump at his tone. Taking care to soften his voice, Lorenz had gently reached across the table to lay his hand over hers. “You’re trembling! If uttering this secret hurts you, then I’ve no desire to hear it.”_

_..._

Being a man of decency, he had not commented on it at the time, but there was no mistaking the tears of gratitude that had welled up in the corners of her warm eyes.

Marianne von Edmund’s assailant claimed to be a crest scholar.

Given her great personal pain over the subject, Lorenz surmised that the boor may well have some knowledge of what troubled Marianne for so long. Still, as the time had not come when she could happily share her secret with him yet, there was only one thing the next leader of House Gloucester could do:

He sent an invite for evening tea to Ignatz Victor.


End file.
